Side Effects
by trufflemores
Summary: There are complications when Barry and Cisco share a bed.


**Author's Notes: Shortest Flash fic I've ever written - enjoy? *heart***

It's like cuddling a polar bear.

Cisco's sleepy-heavy thoughts only partially register the departure of warmth at his side before it settles on top of him, heavy, smothering, overly hot in the cool air.

"Barry," Cisco grunts. Their arrangement was perfect, minimal contact – until Barry rolled over and half-crushed Cisco. Cisco pushes up against Barry's bulk, ignoring the comatose speedster's growly resistance. It is eighty-nine _degrees_ under here, and even though Cisco enjoys a good hug as much as the next person, he did not sign up for being slow-roasted by a speedster.

" _Barry_ ," he repeats, still Team Don't-Wake-Up-the-Sleeping-Bear but quickly changing loyalties as Barry's weight presses down on his ribcage. "Bar. Up. Off," he insists sternly, voice muffled by Barry's shirt. When Barry's arms tighten around him, Cisco whines, a long, plaintive: " _Offfff_."

Acknowledging his struggles with a snore, Barry doesn't move, evidently satisfied to crush Cisco. Cisco entertains the notion of his obituary headline, 'Reputable Scientist Crushed by Bear,' before shimmying around to free a hand and tugging at Barry's shirt. Increasingly energetically when he gets absolutely zero response and _way to be an active listener, Barry_. "Hey, hey. Bar. Bar. _Flash_."

Just like that, golden eyes are looking down at him, an urgent warble in Barry's tone as Flash asks, " _Where's the fire?_ "

"Whoa," Cisco exhales, staring up at Barry. He has seen Barry with the lightning in his eyes before but _this_ – up close, he can see entire galaxies in the storm. Just-Barry isn't dangerous, but Cisco isn't talking to just-Barry. Even with experience – long-term, close contact experience – with The Flash, it still unsettles Cisco to see him, alone, clocked in, Barry's sleepy conscious mind taking a backburner seat. "Hey," Cisco says, reaching up to run his hands up and down Barry's sides, eliciting a prolonged shiver from him, like a cat. "It's just me. Simmer down."

Barry blinks once, twice, and then the lightning cools, becoming background noise in sleepy eyes as he pouts and promptly drapes himself back over Cisco. "No," Cisco grunts, hands stuck between them, " _off_."

"Hm," Barry replies eloquently, asleep in seconds, face buried in the bed next to Cisco's shoulder.

Cisco grunts, shimmying around with painstaking slowness until he has a bit more breathing room. Able to fully expand his ribcage once more, Cisco relaxes into Barry's hug. Space heater he might be, with the covers off and the bulk of Barry's warmth _beside_ and not _on top of_ him, Cisco doesn't mind the closeness.

Doesn't mind it at all, in fact, eyes closed.

Then there's a loud _clap_ and Barry is up, golden-eyed, and out the door in a – well, _Flash_.

Cisco's own heart is pounding, aware that something is off, some _energy_ in The (Speed) Force is out of place. Scrambling out of bed, he gets to the top of the staircase before he sees them, chasing each other, around and around, yellow lightning blurring together. It's like watching a dog chase its own tail, their lightning indistinguishable but for a faint reddish tint as they circle.

Cisco sighs in relief, sinking to the top step and watching the show. He can only see maybe one in fifty laps, getting flashes of images, fuzzy, historic, from somewhere well beyond their present.

Then they come to an abrupt halt, one Flash pinning the other against the wall, and Cisco says, " _Hey_ " because it is very clear which Flash is which, one in pajamas, the other in full Flash regalia. "Let him go."

Other Flash obliges, releasing Barry, and Cisco wants to run towards him but then there's a _whoosh_ before something hits him, hard, and he blacks out.

. o .

Cisco opens his eyes.

There's Barry, still snoozing against his side, having finally rolled back over so he's flat on his front, one arm still draped over Cisco's belly. There is too much heat and Cisco is genuinely concerned about burns, but he's also so relieved that he just scoots closer, relaxing with each slow, catatonic breath.

Resting his cheek against the back of Barry's shoulder, Cisco exhales. He _has_ to stop Vibing in his sleep.

When Barry rolls over and promptly crushes him again, Cisco doesn't even try to push him off. He tucks a hand in Barry's shirt, holding on, and then he sinks into another space.

. o .

The Other Flash walks away from Cisco, approaching Barry. Cisco tries to speak, but his voice won't cooperate. Instead he watches helplessly as the Other Flash reaches down, grabbing Barry by the front of his suit and holding him up in the air. _No_ , Cisco thinks, watching the Other Flash's vibrating hand edge closer to Barry's chest. _No!_

Cisco bolts upright, reaching for a stun gun that isn't there, and there is a real _whoosh_ this time as Barry, immediately on the defensive, Flashes out of bed, zipping around the room before returning to kneel on the bed and take hold of Cisco's arms, grip gentle, tone firm: "What's wrong?"

Cisco blinks, looking at Barry – not golden-eyed Barry, not alternate evil Barry, just _Barry_ – and exhaling.

"Please tell me you weren't planning on time traveling any time soon," Cisco says.

Barry chuckles, some of the tension unwinding from Cisco's shoulders as Barry pulls him into a hug and promptly _oomph_ , knocks him back down on the bed.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Barry promises, getting comfy.

Cisco huffs, thinking how lovely it would be if the tables were turned and _he_ was the speedster while Barry got to have the creepy day- and night-mares, but then Barry rolls onto his back, taking Cisco with him, and oh. Okay.

"Better?" Barry asks, raking his hands down Cisco's back and _hell_ yeah.

"Mm."

Maybe having a speedster for a bedmate isn't so bad when he's the one snoozing on top.


End file.
